Untitled Piece

I notice her there, almond against shadow
Her expression waiting for my response
Searching for me, against the dark
Hoping me to be the husband she needs,
In her weak moments

She is changing
I am changing
It is changing us

I have pictures placed secretly in drawers
Her longing to forget that former life
Me torn between the bold and new,
and hanging onto
that former life

I glance on that old face, now odd
Like someone I lost somewhere
In a dream, and woke to someone new,
Yet familiar as a year

She is changing
We have changed
It is changing us

She is there, peering across the muted dusk
Vulnerable and scared of all this
Needing my arms to hold her
more than I
sometimes appreciate

Losing moments in her new name
Losing my temper, finding her fear
Her vulnerability and softness suit her fine
Her forehead suits my lips just fine
This education is free, but with high cost

She has changed
I must change
It has changed us

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Draw A Map to Get Lost

Amazing night – which was good, because today was overall rather boring.  I had an appointment to meet a local artist, the awesome Patricia Rodriguez, at South Side on Lamar for an event called UNDERGROUND – hosted by ArtLoveMagic.  I biked it the few blocks to the event, around 8:45pm.  Wow, what an extravaganza!

The gallery and floor below were teeming with people, and art was everywhere the eye could turn.  Live music filled the cavernous space, and I was in love.  I want to try & be in the event next year.  Over 50 local artists (many of them up-and-coming or “unknown”) displaying their work, and creating new work live!  Live bands all night, body painting, alcohol, and magic.  Great time.  I was only able to stay about 45 minutes, since I was there to pick up the wife’s VD gift.

I’ll preface with this:  The wife loves Yoko Ono.  She owns a first edition copy of Ono’s seminal book of conceptual art “instructions,” titled Grapefruit.

I ordered a custom Yoko/Grapefruit inspired wooden keepsake box from Ms. Rodriguez – she paints these tea/jewelry/keepsake boxes by hand, embellishes them with extras, etc.  They’re really great.  The wife LOVED it!  (Yes, I gave it to her early – neither of us could wait)  Here are some pics:

I selected some passages from Grapefruit, and requested they be put on the box.  In case the pictures make it hard to read, the passage on top reads:

buy many dream boxes
ask your wife to select one
dream together

On the front it reads:  draw a map to get lost

A Disturbance In Mirrors: Remembering Sylvia Plath

Sylvia Plath took her own life 48 years ago today.  She would have turned 79 last October.  One of my very favorite poems, of hers or otherwise, follows.

I have done it again.
One year in every ten
I manage it—–

A sort of walking miracle, my skin
Bright as a Nazi lampshade,
My right foot

A paperweight,
My featureless, fine
Jew linen.

Peel off the napkin
O my enemy.
Do I terrify?——-

The nose, the eye pits, the full set of teeth?
The sour breath
Will vanish in a day.

Soon, soon the flesh
The grave cave ate will be
At home on me

And I a smiling woman.
I am only thirty.
And like the cat I have nine times to die.

This is Number Three.
What a trash
To annihilate each decade.

What a million filaments.
The Peanut-crunching crowd
Shoves in to see

Them unwrap me hand in foot ——
The big strip tease.
Gentleman , ladies

These are my hands
My knees.
I may be skin and bone,

Nevertheless, I am the same, identical woman.
The first time it happened I was ten.
It was an accident.

The second time I meant
To last it out and not come back at all.
I rocked shut

As a seashell.
They had to call and call
And pick the worms off me like sticky pearls.

Dying
Is an art, like everything else.
I do it exceptionally well.

I do it so it feels like hell.
I do it so it feels real.
I guess you could say I’ve a call.

It’s easy enough to do it in a cell.
It’s easy enough to do it and stay put.
It’s the theatrical

Comeback in broad day
To the same place, the same face, the same brute
Amused shout:

‘A miracle!’
That knocks me out.
There is a charge

For the eyeing my scars, there is a charge
For the hearing of my heart—
It really goes.

And there is a charge, a very large charge
For a word or a touch
Or a bit of blood

Or a piece of my hair on my clothes.
So, so, Herr Doktor.
So, Herr Enemy.

I am your opus,
I am your valuable,
The pure gold baby

That melts to a shriek.
I turn and burn.
Do not think I underestimate your great concern.

Ash, ash—
You poke and stir.
Flesh, bone, there is nothing there—-

A cake of soap,
A wedding ring,
A gold filling.

Herr God, Herr Lucifer
Beware
Beware.

Out of the ash
I rise with my red hair
And I eat men like air.

New Music Sunday! 2/6/11

Always familiarize yourself with new music.

Beach House – Walk In the Park

This is one of the most awesomely weird videos I’ve ever seen.  The YouTube comments sum it up:

satanhead69 (4 weeks ago)

There is a lesson to be learned here. If a dude pulls a sandwich out of a hole in his chest and offers it to you, do not eat it.

Twotontongue (3 weeks ago)

Wow this video is absolutely awful and yet wonderful, disgusting and yet totally mind boggling hilarious and beautiful! A fucked up masterpiece.

damienwolves (1 day ago)

This video makes no sense.

pichanund (2 days ago)

i fucking love this video

Iron & Wine – Tree By the River

Destroyer – Kaputt

SoloBob – The Victim

This song isn’t really “new” and I’ve been talking about/sharing/loving it for years, but it’s still amazing. It’s by Robert Schwartzman, aka SOLOBOB, who was/is the lead singer of Rooney, and who also happens to be the brother of the amazing actor/singer Jason Schwartzman, aka Coconut Records.

Fiorious – Elevator

M83 – Kim and Jessie

Hannah Georgas – The Beat Stuff

Elemint – Poetry of Life

As of this writing, you can download Elemint’s entire debut album, Born Fresh, for FREE at Amazon.

Piece For Wind I

(inspired by my current read, ‘Grapefruit‘ by Yoko Ono)

Take a bag of woven cloth, or plastic
Whisper your secrets into the bag
Go outside, wherever there is wind
Open the bag and let the secrets fly to the wind
Forget them all

2011 winter

Yoko Ono – Blood Piece

Blood Orange by Amy Breen

Blood Piece

Use your blood to paint.
Keep painting until you faint. (a)
Keep painting until you die. (b)

1960 spring

(from Yoko Ono’s landmark work, Grapefruit.)